Lasting Wounds
by KimikoRinSohmaHyuuga
Summary: After Kakashi dies, Tamiko, my OC, is confronted with things she does not want to face.


A fic I wrote about my OC. She is Tamiko Hyuuga, and ends up with Kakashi (if he lives). This is written on the pretense that Kakashi does die. This was also written when I still wanted her to end up with Shikamaru, which I don't anymore. Tamiko is a 18-year-old jonin in this fic. Enjoy. Please rate and review! :)

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**Lasting Wounds**

**Four years after Pein's invasion of Konoha**

"No! Absolutely not!" I said forcefully, glaring across the desk at the blond woman sitting behind it.

"This isn't a choice, Tamiko!" the Fifth Hokage admonished me, "We're short on jonin leaders, and you're one of my only choices." Of course, Lady Tsunade was right. There weren't enough squad leaders to lead the new possible genin. But, of course, graduation _had _to come when I was free of missions. Of course. Ugh. But I couldn't ignore an order.

"Fine," I growled, snatching the scroll of information from the desk, and slamming out of the Hokage's office. I stormed down the steps, and out into the busy streets. It wasn't peace time, but people were out enjoying the spring day. I always forgot how many civilians lived in Konoha. Probably because I had never liked being out around people. Now, I spent time in a training clearing, which was where I was heading. I arrived in no time, and cast the scroll onto the grass. I pulled out a kunai, and started practicing. Block. Strike. Dodge. Moving fast, I ducked and weaved, lost in my own thoughts. As I got into the rhythm of training, my mind wandered back to my own days as a genin. The day I had gotten my squad. The names of my teammates and sensei had appalled me at first. The worst, Hyuuga Hinata. The weak heir to the Hyuuga clan. My clan. Also, Kurenai hadn't been my first choice for a sensei. I had originally wanted Sarutobi Asuma, because of his skill with chakra weapons. Or Kakashi because he had been an ANBU, which was my ambition at the time. I hadn't known Kakashi then. I had only known my grief for my brother, and my bitterness towards my parents. Things had been different by the time Kakashi had died. I stopped my thoughts, so that I wouldn't have to remember. Even away from people, away from things to remind me, the grief assaulted me. The crushing weight of Kakashi's death fell on me again, as it did every time I thought about it. This was why I tried not to remember, tried to stay away from my memories. The reason I lived in the present, concentrating on the minutes, the small things, so that I wouldn't have to look at the big picture. To avoid the pain was all I asked for anymore. I had given up on warmth when I had been plunged into icy reality. I had given up on love after I had lost my last piece of it. I was drifting through the world, tied with frayed cords to the few things I had left. Kurenai, Yamashi, Hinata, and maybe even Shikamaru. He and I had been proctors for the chuunin exams a year ago, and we had struck up a friendship. It was easy to talk to him and confide in him. As my thoughts drifted, I felt someone watching me. I ignored the feeling, as there were usually people around the training fields.

"Tamiko?" I started out of my movement, and looked toward the familiar voice.

"Are you okay?" Shikamaru asked, walking to stand in front of me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, puzzled.

"You sure?" he persisted, and I frowned, confused. Shaking his head in exasperation, he ran his thumb across my cheek, then showed it to me. A tear sat there, the perfect dome catching the light. Angry with myself, I swiped my arm across my face. The old scar on my cheek pulled slightly, but I ignored it. I looked up at Shikamaru, and he started to ask, but I cut him off.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said shortly.

"Okay, you don't have to," Shikamaru replied, and sat down in the grass. I flopped down beside him, exhausted from my training. My thoughts wandered back to the moment when I had pulled my scar. That was another thing I tried to keep out, but it was hard to ignore something you saw in the mirror every day. It was a reminder of my days of as an ANBU, and a mark of the Akatsuki's lingering presence. But it was also a reminder of the time when Kakashi had been gone for three years on a mission. Those months had been hard, but he had returned. Now was so different. Kakashi would never return.

"Tamiko, you're crying again," Shikamaru commented, concern in his voice. I leaned against him, needing comfort. Shikamaru patted my hair, and I let the grief flow out of me. The tears washed down my face, and finally, I let the Copy Ninja go.


End file.
